Look of Sex

Written for Scriggle, with this icon of hers as a prompt.

Ray watched as Fraser began climbing the ropes behind the stage drapes.

What an insane case. Who'd have thought that a Canadian country singer could be the cause of so much fuss? Ray didn't get it. Sure, all right, she was good looking. Had a nice voice. Sang her songs, did her thing, but what was the big deal? Ray'd liked the back-up singer better, if only because she had a nicer rack. Ray wasn't really picky when it came down to it, he was more like a dog in heat these days. So, ok, he hadn't gotten laid in what felt like years, and maybe it had been years and he couldn't even remember the last time. So, yeah, he looked at every bit of skirt that walked by, but that didn't mean he was going to do anything about it. Which would have sucked for him, a little while back, but nowadays, he didn't really notice. Or, well, he noticed, but didn't care quite as much as if some pretty blonde or brunette even looked at him twice. He looked plenty enough for all, and left it at that. It was something else that was bugging him now. Someone else. And it didn't have a rack of any kind.

Fraser, man. Fraser. So, ok, Ray always kind of knew he wasn't the straightest of the straight. He'd been attracted to men before. Freaked him out big time, to be honest, but he was going with Stella at the time, and then he was married, and - oh, yeah - crazy in love with her, so he stopped thinking about it and it almost went away. And then along came Fraser, and yeah, Ray'd freaked out. Big time. But didn't let it show - he was damn proud of that, actually - and all was fine. All was good. They were partners, they were clicking, they were all good. They were great. Except for when Fraser did his 'I am Super Mountie' routine and Ray would fall for it harder than Frannie, minus the obvious drooling, every single time. Yeah, he didn't like it, didn't want it, but couldn't stop it. He hated that, and always took it out on Fraser himself, which wasn't buddies, but at least it kept him from pawing at Fraser, which should have counted for something.

So, he watched as Fraser climbed the ropes, watched him reaching for the beam, and felt his stomach clenching, adrenaline washing through him, because yeah, Fraser was sex on strong legs, and Ray couldn't really deny it anymore. He was caught, hook, line and sinker, and all he could do now was not let it show. He held the toothpick between his teeth, twirled it with his fingers, and tried not to stare or imagine too much. It was really lucky then, that he'd been close enough to see and his instincts were on high alert where it came to Fraser, because the next moment, he was seeing a gun and it was being pointed towards the stage and he swung the light and hit the sniper with the beam.

And there went Fraser, catching the bad guy - George?! - and Ray backing him up, and they were partners, they were clicking, they were good, and all Ray had to do was think of his grandma and her dentures, and there, he had his woodie back under control. Jesus. He needed to get a grip, and he meant pronto.

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